


Horse Sense

by what_a_dork_fish



Series: Cheriks [15]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Horse Racing, Horses, jockey Charles, pre-Cherik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: Erik doesn't like jockeys.But he might make an exception.





	Horse Sense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amcsummersgoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcsummersgoddess/gifts).



> short short short

Erik had had it up to here with cocky jockeys. Some did drugs, some mistreated their horses, and none of them knew how to treat the stablehands.

“I am  _not_  your personal butler!” Erik roared at the wide-eyed jockeys. “Clean up your own damn messes, you assholes! I’m here for the  _horses_ , not  _you_!”

They scattered, to tend to their tack, to clean up the inevitable messes, to do something actually  _useful_. Erik prowled the stable, glaring at them all, watching sharply as they worked. The horses shifted uneasily, frightened by Erik’s anger, but he made sure not to approach any of them.

There was one jockey who did not keep his head bowed, and while his horse snorted when Erik reached her stall, she did not step back. Erik glared at the jockey. Oh, yes. The new boy. Old money. He’d already won every race he’d been in, so he must be the cockiest bastard in the bunch.

The easy smile the new boy–man–turned on Erik was not cocky in the least.

“Is everything to your liking, sir?” he asked Erik cheerfully.

Erik eyed the horse, temper cooling. She was well-tended and sound–well, she’d have to be, to win so many races. Her stocky stature matched her rider, but she was still undoubtedly a racing horse. Erik looked at her stall; clean and fresh. He looked at her rider; sweaty and dirty, but then, he had just come in from a good run with her. It had been a light run, a warm-up really, and they had done well.

“Yes,” Erik answered him grudgingly, and turned away.

~

Erik and his battalion of stablehands descended on the horses the next day to lovingly tend them. The beasts themselves were let loose in the pastures; it was a beautiful spring day, and Erik intended to have the stables as clean as possible by dinnertime.

Near noon, as he passed out chilled Powerades to his battalion, a dusty but certainly not rusty Jaguar rumbled down the gravel drive to park among the far more sensible cars and trucks. Erik stared–he loved cars almost as much as he loved horses–then recognized the driver as he got out.

The new jockey. Erik scowled, and stepped forward to block the way into the stable as the jockey approached.

“You can’t come in,” he told the other bluntly. “It’s not done yet.”

The jockey gave his easy smile, all charm and innocence. “I just want to see my horse,” he told Erik. “I always visit her at this time.”

Erik eyed him warily. A name came to him; Xavier, Charles Xavier. This guy certainly looked like a Charles. “She’s there,” Erik grunted, waving vaguely at the pasture.

Charles’ smile grew and warmed to real happiness. “Thank you,” he said simply, and almost ran to the fence. Then he actually climbed into the field, which Erik had never seen a jockey do, and whistled. A whinny answered, and his horse galloped over, circling Charles three times before skidding to a stop and pushing her nose against him, making him laugh. Erik blinked. He had a nice laugh. And his horse seemed very happy to see him.

Then Erik scowled and stomped back to his battalion.

~

Erik did not bet–gambling had almost ruined him when he was younger–but he liked to watch races. As a stablehand and trainer, he got a discount as long as he helped out. He didn’t mind. He got to take care of the horses and spy on the jockeys, to make sure they were worthy.

He watched Charles and his horse Sunrise, and toyed with the idea of betting on them. Charles was good. Sunrise liked him, nuzzling him and standing absolutely still for him, and Charles wouldn’t let anyone else care for her. Erik did not expect Charles to recognize him–jockeys never did–but the moment Sunrise raised her muzzle and looked Erik’s way, Charles did too, and smiled in recognition.

“Mr. Lehnsherr!” Charles called, and waved. “Everything to your satisfaction?”

Grudgingly, Erik nodded.

Charles led Sunrise over to Erik, and the horse tugged the human a few extra steps so she could nose at Erik and snort on him. Erik smiled slightly and stroked her sweaty neck, scratching her perked ears.

“Hello, darling,” he murmured.

“You trained her mother,” Charles commented.

Erik’s head snapped up like a startled horse, and he stared at Charles, who smiled sheepishly. “My mother owned her grandmother,” he explained, “And I like to keep up with her bloodline. I had a fight on my hands, bargaining for Sunrise.” Charles smiled at the horse, who curved her head around and lipped Charles’ mussed hair. “I’m so glad I won,” he murmured.

Erik nodded, less grudgingly. Maybe this jockey wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> comments = love, life, and happiness


End file.
